


what did my fingers do before they held him?

by daredvil



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Breeding Kink, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Mentioned Asra/Julian, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Size Difference, Size Kink, Upright Ending, also can we talk about how this mfer is 6 ft 10? i am in shambles, dunno when i started writing porn much less reader fics lmao, i tried to keep reader as vague as possible so anyone could read!, if u squint i guess, no beta we die like men, no names are said/given though!, reader is explicitly a woman and muriel refers to her as such
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:01:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daredvil/pseuds/daredvil
Summary: what did my heart do, with its love?Just the sight of him after a day away makes your heart skip a beat. Your heart feels so full, nearly fit to burst, this is ridiculous! How is one man so perfect?
Relationships: Apprentice/Muriel (The Arcana), Muriel (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 159





	what did my fingers do before they held him?

**Author's Note:**

> \- quote by sylvia plath. 
> 
> apparently my type is big, comforting men if my fics are anything to go by lmao anyway! this is to celebrate the end of muriels route, im so excited to play it and see him happy! he's my favorite arcana character and i just wanna love on this giant man. okay? okay! i hope you guys enjoy :)

“Asra!” you call into the back room as you shelve the last of your things. Faust slithers off your shoulder and down your arm when you extend your arm towards her small bed on the counter, really just a pile of loose fabrics without a home. “I’m all done, going home now.”

“Alright,” his voice calls back, “I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You duck down to kiss Faust’s little head, smiling when she says _goodbye!_ in your head. 

As you throw your bag over your shoulder, the door opens and you automatically start to speak, “Sorry we’re closed— oh!” 

“Hello, my favorite apprentice!” Julian shuts the door swiftly behind him as he slides to your side, pulling you into a greeting hug. 

You titter and hug him back, “Julian! I'm no longer an apprentice, how many times do I have to tell you?” 

As he pulls away he presses his cheek to yours and makes a dramatic kissing sound, “At least once more.”

You smile and playfully shove him away to see Asra come out from the back, his face lighting up when he sees Julian. 

“Hello there,” Asra greets him with a smile so indulgent and soft it makes you roll your eyes at him. 

“And that's my cue to leave!” you hop to Asra’s side and kiss his cheek, “See you tomorrow, Asra,” you move to the door again and kiss Julian’s cheek, “Goodbye, Julian!” 

“Tell Muriel I said hello, he’s due for a visit soon,” Asra says.

You nod, making a mental note to bring him over for tea and a card reading this weekend, “Don't do anything in my armchair again, please!” You cackle at Julian’s face turning scarlet as you slip out the door.

Asra’s mirthful laugh floats through the open window as you make your way to the marketplace.

You aren't looking for anything in particular, just meandering through the streets picking up a cute trinket or two from a shop before they close, tucking them into your purse to show Muriel later. The setting sun bathes the streets in idyllic, honey-gold light as you watch the people still milling about, everyone’s unhurried actions add to the comforting mundanity of it all. You suck in a deep breath, thankful that everything you fought for was worth it in the end, especially now that you're only minutes away from being in your lover’s arms again. As you round the last corner of the shops, you spot Inanna sitting by the last booth in the street, sitting as still and attentive as a sentinel until she sees you. Her tail starts wagging enthusiastically as you hurry towards her, squatting to scratch behind her ears and kiss the top of her head. You giggle as she licks your neck in greeting before gently pushing her snout away. In moments like these you forget she’s a wolf and not an enormous dog. 

“Come, Inanna,” you stand and beckon her to follow. She matches pace with you easily, brushing up against your leg every so often as you leave the center city. The people you occasionally pass wave and greet you and you do the same in turn, smiling when Inanna presses her cold, wet nose to the back of your hand to urge you along. “Impatient are we, pretty girl?” you ask. She just looks up at you with her big yellow-green eyes and huffs. 

Before long, the two of you reach the city limits, following the familiar path to your attractive little cottage at the edge of the forest. Inanna trots ahead of you once Muriel comes into view, howling to get his attention. 

Just the sight of him after a day away makes your heart skip a beat. 

Muriel lifts his head, a soft smile already on his face as he sees you and Inanna come near. He sets down his things and ties his hair back, longer now than it was in the past. You like it; you like the way it frames his face, how it feels between your fingers, you idly wonder if you should offer to cut it for him. 

He's not as muscular as he used to be, at least not in such a showy fashion, another thing that's changed. His arms and legs look about the same, but around his middle he's plumped up a bit. Decent meals and your penchant for cakes that Nadia gifts you frequently are to blame, you think. After all, he used to scrape by on what was barely necessary to eat. Domesticity has softened him in more ways than one, it makes you grin. You wouldn't have it any other way. But, undoubtedly, he's still as strong.

The home he's built for the two of you, three with Inanna, is a testament to that. Of course, you had a hand in helping, but you don’t deny that the bulk of the work was done by him. A space just meant for you both, carved into the outskirts of Vesuvia. You have to admit that he looks good as a house husband, out in the yard tending to your small garden with a basket of vegetables in his hand. 

You smile so wide you can feel your eyes crinkle at the corners as you sprint the last few yards towards him. He drops the basket by Inanna’s side and opens his arms to greet you, scooping you up off the ground with ease. Your arms wrap around his neck while his wind around your waist, the warmth from his body sinking into yours and immediately soothing you. 

You sigh dreamily as his large, rough hand massages a knot in your back. What did you do to deserve this man? You press kisses into his hair, doubling your efforts when he laughs out your name in weak protest. He moves to put you back on the ground but you continue kissing his face, making him chuckle. As your feet touch the ground you keep your arms around his neck, forcing him to hunch over you. 

He lifts his arms to pry you off him, the way his hands dwarf your wrists by a significant amount makes you bite your lip and your face heats up when he presses kisses to your open palms. 

“Hello,” you breathe.

Muriel looks at you through his thick lashes, lips still touching your hands. “Hey,” he mumbles against them.

Inanna takes this opportunity to pop up between you, pulling you apart with a small, attention seeking whine. Muriel laughs, you admire the way his smile changes his face to make him even more unfairly attractive, and he squats down to give her more pets. Inanna settles down, pressing her snout into his face while her tail thumps against the ground. 

He scratches under her chin, looking up at you fondly, “Welcome home.” 

“Glad to be back!” 

He stands, kissing you quickly on his way up before taking your hand leading you inside. Inanna picks up the basket with her mouth and follows you in, just long enough to drop it off by the door before she leaves. Running off to, well, do whatever she does in the forest. 

You nudge the door with your foot to shut behind you, the moment it does you’re already on Muriel again. Pulling him down for a kiss that he melts into. His face somehow feels like it fits perfectly in your hands, his stubble scratching your skin pleasantly as you rub your thumbs over his old scars. When he presses his tongue to your lips you sigh through your nose, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. You hope this feeling never ends, this warm ember of satisfied, fulfilled happiness in your heart. Somehow, you know that, with him, it never will. 

He pulls away first, making you pout childishly, dramatically. It makes him smile and he gives in, without you even saying a word, and he leans down to kiss you again.

“Dinner,” Muriel says when he manages to pull away, “Should I start making it?”

You shrug off your jacket and toss it onto the nearest chair as you shake your head. “No, not now,” You kick off your shoes and playfully tug at the waistband of his pants. “I have something else in mind, is that okay?”

“Oh,” he says simply. “Alright.”

“Just alright?” your fingers slip under his shirt and slide up his stomach, “That’s all you have to say?”

Muriel scowls, “Don’t tease.” 

You pull your hands away and smile up at him before you saunter into your bedroom. “C’mon then, I’ve missed you.”

He obediently follows, pressing up against you once he’s caught up. “I missed you too.”

You press your back into his chest, humming thoughtfully as his arms snake around you, all encompassing and familiar. “Well, we’re together now.”

“Let’s get undressed.”

You chirp out a short little laugh and pull away from him to pull your shirt up as he does the same. 

You playfully whistle at his bare chest as you slip off your pants. His scars used to make you unbearably sad, yours made him feel the same. Of course, they still do, in a way. But now the feeling is distant, less painful. The scars you two have are just proof you are stronger now. Old hurts dulled with love, as cheesy as that sounds. He rolls his eyes but you can see his lips curl into a smile. You watch him kick off his shoes before you throw your own clothes to the floor, you’ll worry about those later. Impatient as ever, you don’t bother waiting for him to unlace his trousers and instead slink forward to do it yourself. 

Muriel makes a small sound when he sees you naked and all but glued to him, your hands enthusiastically loosening his belt as you kiss his chest, looking up at him. His dry, warm hands skim down your back, gently holding you in place, encouraging.

His eyes flash as you pull down the waistband of his pants, stroking him over his underwear the moment you realize how hard he is. 

“At least let me take everything off first,” he complains weakly as he fidgets in place, hips twitching into your hand.

You stick your tongue out at him but move away to let him remove the last of his clothes, “Let me have my fun.”

“I’m sure you will.”

Muriel tosses his pants and underwear to the side and faces you, his face a brilliant crimson as he avoids your eyes. You don't think you’ll ever get over how big he is, just how much of him there is. His fat, lengthy cock hanging between his legs almost makes your knees weak and it must show on your face because his mouth twists to the side, insecurity clouding his eyes. 

“We don't have to—“

“No!” You shake your head wildly, “I want it, always do.”

His face turns a deeper shade of red, “Always?”

You feel your face heat in embarrassment but you nod anyway, no point in lying to him. “Yea,” you breathe out as you reach forward to stroke him, “you just make me feel so good.” 

Muriel groans, a shiver working his way down his spine. Your hand on his cock makes it look even bigger, your fingers just barely wrap around it as you move your hand up and down slowly. No matter how many times you lay with him, he still reacts like it's his first time with you. It pains you to think that so long without a kind touch had made him so incredibly sensitive; and part of you hopes he’ll eventually feel accustomed to the loving way you lay hands on him, but another darker, wicked part of you likes how responsive he is. 

After a minute, he pulls your hand away and you frown, not wanting to stop touching him. He kisses that expression off your face and lays you back onto the bed, legs hanging over the edge.

“Let me,” Muriel asks between kisses, “Please?” 

He kneels in front of your parted thighs, his calloused hands holding you in place. 

“Oh,” Now it's your turn to shiver, “Yes, Muriel, please.”

His eyes darken before they flutter closed and your thighs fall over his shoulder, you bite your knuckle to keep yourself from moaning embarrassingly loud. Why is he so, so handsome? 

At the first touch of his tongue on you, your breath leaves you all at once. Your chest rises and falls erratically as he licks at you with the flat of his tongue, his nose occasionally brushing against your clit sending sparks up your spine. 

“Muriel!” you gasp, only a little surprised at how needy you sound. 

He looks up at you, the way your slick has already spread on his lips makes you keen. He closes his eyes again, setting to work to make you ready for him. You’ve insisted in the past that you don't really need it, greedily wanting the stretch to burn a little when he finally enters you, but his tongue and thick, perfect fingers feel too good to pass up today. 

His tongue trails upwards to find your clit, sucking on it gently as he plunges two fingers inside you. Your hand flies off your mouth to clutch at the sheets as you grind your hips into his face, thighs nearly locking him in place. A strangled sound is ripped from your throat when he moans against you, a small thrum on your clit.

Muriel thrusts his fingers into you leisurely, at odds with the way he’s lapping at you, quick and reckless. Before long, he adds another finger. The tight press and drag of him inside you makes your thighs tremble, his touch both soothes you and makes you ache for more. It’s good, fuck, it’s amazing, yet your hips tilt towards him. Seeking, asking for more. 

You cry out when he hums directly on your clit, fingers flying to tangle in Muriel’s black mop of hair. 

“Muriel, please.”

He nods against you, his fingers speeding up inside you because he knows, he wants you to come because of him. 

You tug his hair as gently as you can manage, knowing he doesn’t like it too rough, and are rewarded with him humming against you again. Paired with the way he crooks his fingers just so inside you, it’s enough to push you over the edge.

You clench around his fingers and moan, back arching off the bed as the heavy heat in your stomach snaps into white hot electricity. Muriel moves with your bucking hips, not pulling his mouth off of you for a moment as he works you through your orgasm. 

You push your hand against his forehead softly when you can’t take any more of his tongue, twisting away from him weakly when he pulls away. He nuzzles his cheek against the soft inside of your thigh, his stubble prickles your skin and you sigh at the feeling before tugging him up over you.

He’s on you in no time, pressing his tongue into your mouth languidly to let you taste yourself. Your hands slide down his chest as you kiss him and your thumbs drag over his nipples, softly but enough to make his breath stutter. 

You break the kiss and rub your nose against his as you ask, “Can I ride you?”

You watch, amused, as Muriel’s face cycles through shades of pink, a reaction he can’t seem to get rid of no matter how hard he tries. He tilts his head to catch your lips again, just a peck before he pulls away again.

He nods and you smile as you push him back by his chest. He smiles in return and follows your movement, pulling you onto his lap as he flips you both over. He settles you down as he lays back, your knees snug around his large body. His hands glide from your shoulders down to your thighs, his calloused palms catching on your nipple makes you groan. 

Muriel squeezes your thighs, dreamily sighing your name as he looks up at you. 

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you more.” 

His lips quirk up in a small smile as he rolls his eyes, he knows better to start arguing with you now. Instead, he uses his grip on your thighs to move you on his cock, not trying to enter you but instead just feeling your wetness against him. Every time he catches on your clit you squirm and dig your nails into his biceps, leaving little indents in your wake. You’re certain he only does it for a minute or two, but it’s enough to make you desperate to have him make the emptiness inside you go away. 

“Muriel,” you whine, voice breaking on the last syllable.

He relents and finally, _finally_ eases you down onto his cock and he makes a sound like he’s been punched when he finally pushes inside.

“You’re too damn, _ahh_ , tight.”

You shake your head, “No, you’re just so big, Muriel.”

“Don’t say that— fuck!” 

You slide down the last half at your own pace, not his, impatient to feel him. You put your hands on his shoulders for leverage, lifting your hips up slowly to savor the drag of him inside you. His hands slide from your hips to cup your breasts as you start to ride him. You drop back down on him eagerly when he starts to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers. 

“You’re so,” he whispers your name under his breath, “Pretty. Beautiful.” 

His words warm your heart but you can’t even form a response, words too far away now, so instead you set to ride him even faster. His hands move to circle your wrists as you move, anchoring you in place. Muriel groans and halfheartedly thrusts into you, like he’s trying to hold himself back. 

You lean most of your weight on him as you move, head lolling forward at the feeling of him, hot and solid inside you.

“Fuck,” you sigh as he jolts up into you, throwing you off your rhythm.

“Sorry.” 

You shush him and readjust, bouncing on him once again with an intensity that makes him curse and tighten his hands around your wrists. Despite not riding him for long, you feel close already. The residual wisps of heat from your last orgasm swirl in your belly again, the stretch of his thick cock only fanning the flames further. You swivel your hips to try to pull him in deeper, groaning at the weight of him reaching so far inside you. Then, his hips snap up again. Even with him holding back his strength it nearly bowls you over. 

Your hips falter, your knees buckle, and you fall forward, face first into his chest. God, he's just so _big_. A distant thought passes through your mind, you could throw out your mattress and sleep on him instead. He releases your wrists and apologizes again. You whine in response, moving your hips to get back the stimulation that nearly made you come. 

One of his hands moves to cup the back of your neck, keeping you in place so his other hand can slip between your bodies to thumb at your clit in tight little circles. He thrusts shallowly into you as you grind back, keening and panting against him. 

The head of his cock presses against your cervix, just the right side of painful, it sends a bolt of heat down your spine. Damn it, you’re close. _So_ fucking close. You just need something, something more—

“Please,” he whispers in your ear. The sound of his voice makes you come, tears at the corners of your eyes as they squeeze shut. Your thighs shake with the force of your orgasm yet you find yourself pushing down on him as if you could get him any deeper, greedy for more of him. 

His fingers don’t leave your clit until you’re almost crying, clutching his forearms desperately as you tighten around him even more. Muriel finally moves his hand away to grip your thigh when you sob, soothing you with quiet mouth sounds. His massive hand is warm and comforting as you come back to your senses. 

“Muriel,” you murmur, lifting your head to kiss up his collarbone and neck, “I want you to come too, please.” 

You feebly attempt to ride him again but your legs tremble like a fawn and you can’t even manage to lift yourself off of him. You pout and try again in vain. Your struggle makes him chuckle before he effortlessly lifts you, flipping you over without pulling out. You throw your hands around his neck and he grabs your sides in his huge hands. You love how small you feel, how safe you are with your mountain of a man, so you tell him as much. 

It's funny how much he can be flustered by your words considering he's inside you right now. He half thrusts half pulls you onto him, noses bumping together when he kisses you, forehead thumping against yours when you break apart. 

It’s all you can do to hold on as he uses your body, fucking into you with singleminded determination. You watch his chest and biceps flex as he moves, watch his hair fall around his face in a beautiful, ink black shower. When you tuck the loose strands behind his ears for him, he absentmindedly tilts his head to kiss your forearm.

He doesn't whine or moan, not quite, even in these intimate moments he’s remarkably quiet, but every little noise that manages to tumble out of his mouth make you feel like you're flying.

 _You’re_ doing this to him, you think, in awe. _Your_ body is making him feel that good. You watch him bite his lip after a particularly hard thrust, his eyebrows furrowed and face flushed so handsomely. So beautiful, your magnificent, gorgeous man. His eyes blink open when you moan and you notice him watch your breasts bounce for a moment before he bends forward to take one nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth and tongue graze your skin but not biting down. He groans against you and the sound sends another jolt of heat between your legs.

You flex mindlessly, on reflex, bearing down on him and breathlessly laughing when it pulls another rare sound out of him. You want to hear him more, you need to hear it. 

“Please, Muriel, come inside me. Please! Need it, want it, so bad,” his hips snap into you automatically, your words almost have more of an affect than your touch sometimes. He mumbles an apology, fingers flexing into your skin. You take one of his hands off your waist and press his knuckles to your lips as you lace your fingers together. “Don't apologize, just,” you wiggle your hips up towards him in encouragement, “Fill me with your come, please, don't you want to?”

Muriel’s hand squeezes yours and he pins it to the bed beside your head, his other hand falling in a mirror position beside your ear. “Of course I want that, damn woman.”

You chuckle, then full on laugh again when you see him purse his lips, almost pouting. 

“Don't laugh,” he grumbles, “It feels too good when you do.”

This, of course, makes you laugh again, mostly just to tease him.

His forest green eyes flick up to meet yours, your heart aches at how fondly he's looking at you. He takes your other hand in his and presses it to your stomach, covering it with his own. “Feel it?” he asks. The tone of his voice makes you speechless, you just bite your lip and nod up at him.

He starts moving again, something about his hands— oh, _his hands_ — one still holding yours and the other pushing down to force you to feel his cock from the outside, pushes you right to the edge of coming again.

“Damn, Muriel, oh—“ you swear he fucks you harder when you say his name, “I want to— _ah!_ ”

His hand uncovers yours and slides down to touch your clit, his middle and ring finger moving sloppily, barely any rhythm, but it's enough for you. 

Your hand grips his with as much strength as you have, which definitely isn't enough to cause him any pain, so you don’t worry and just completely let yourself go. Your eyes shut tight and your world is narrowed down to only Muriel. How he feels inside you, around you, you distantly hear him chanting your name before you feel him spill inside you. It's so much, almost too much, it always is with a man of his size, and its warmth inside you makes you squirm, it feels too good. You finally manage to pry your eyes open to look up at him.

His dark hair in a curtain around his face, the ponytail that was up earlier is pulled out and disheveled, his chest heaves as he tries to even out his breaths and his lip looks like he nearly bit through it to keep quiet. Damn him, he's the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.

You whine when he pulls out of you, collapsing at your side to immediately kiss you, both of you panting through your noses, just that desperate to be pressed to each other. You jump in surprise when you feel his hand between your legs, fingertips just barely grazing your entrance. You moan when you feel just how wet you are, even if you know that it's mostly his spend leaking out of you. 

You clutch his bicep, not sure if you're trying to stop or encourage him. He kisses your cheek as he spreads you with his fingers, avoiding your clit for now. He just wants to push his come back inside you with his own hands. You shudder, nuzzling his cheek with yours and gripping his arm for dear life as he continues for another minute, unhurried. You whimper when the pleasant overstimulation turns just a touch painful and he pulls his hand away, kissing your temple as an apology. 

“That was hot,” you kiss along his jaw, laughing when you see his face light up red again “You're hot. We’re doing this again soon, I hope?”

He groans your name as he hides his face in your hair, you can feel his dopey smile as he wraps his arms around you, “Yes, of course. I love you.”

Your heart feels so full, nearly fit to burst, this is ridiculous! How is one man so perfect? You thank your lucky stars he's here with you now, and know he will be for the rest of your days. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!
> 
> every kudos, bookmark, and comment means so much to me, so thanks again! 💕


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